


If You Stick Around

by marsakat



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Friendships, Famous Singer!Josh, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Musician!Tyler, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 14:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsakat/pseuds/marsakat
Summary: It had always been Tyler's dream to play music on stage in front of thousands and thousands of adoring fans. Granted he wanted to be performing his own music, but at this point he'd take what he could get, and besides, at least he liked Josh Dun's songs....In which Tyler is a back-up musician who has a massive crush on the rising star he's on tour with.





	If You Stick Around

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic for a long, long time, and I am so, so excited to share with you.

It had always been Tyler's dream to play music on stage in front of thousands and thousands of adoring fans. Granted he wanted to be performing his  _ own _ music, but at this point he'd take what he could get, and besides, at least he  _ liked _ Josh Dun's songs.

Tyler had been a studio and touring musician for a number of years, and worked with a large assortment of acts. The experiences had been varied; pop stars with an ego that didn't match their talent level, legends who were either full of wisdom or couldn't be bothered to learn his name, and up-and-coming artists that were still trying to figure it all out.Tyler had learned to hold his tongue most of the time, since he had bills he needed to pay and when it came down to it, at least he was playing music for a living.

Tyler had a different problem this time. Never before had he developed a massive embarrassing crush on 'the talent' before, and he was in crisis.

Tyler could understand why Josh had so many people screaming over him on the internet. Not only was he talented; a perfect blend of catchy and unique, able to craft hits that weren't cookie-cutter and stayed true to what made him popular— but he was also extremely attractive.

Or, as one fan said online; " _ he's so beautiful, I cry every time I see his ugly ass face _ ."

Josh had shown him this tweet on the tour bus, late one night when every other crew member had fallen asleep. They were rumbling down some nearly-empty highway across a great expanse of  _ nothing _ , which barely mattered because Tyler wasn't staring out the window. The best view was Josh leaning in to show him his phone; the clean scent of Josh’s body wash, the dim glow on his cheekbones cascading into the shadowed valleys of his face.

In that moment, Tyler understood the tweet’s sentiment completely.

Josh was the kind of pretty that wasn't immediately apparent. One’s eyes knew he was interesting, pleasing, but the brain's ability to process his attractiveness took some time. Tyler couldn't help but stare, though on stage it didn't matter, because he was surrounded by an arena of people doing the same thing.

To make matters even worse, Josh was sweet and funny. He was unconcerned with status, and just seemed like he wanted to have fun playing music and meeting new friends. If he had been a dick, it would have just been easier for Tyler to get over his crush.

With anyone else that Tyler had a crush on, he'd be blushing and awkward, but something about Josh put him at ease. His mild-mannered temperament and friendliness made everything simultaneously easy and difficult. In a way, Josh was like the music he made—comforting and safe.

From the moment they'd met, Josh emanated this energy as if they'd been friends for years with a thousand inside jokes. They clicked so quickly, Tyler wondered if Josh had that relationship with anyone else. When he felt melancholic, he simply figured Josh was just that great of a person, and had a boatload of friends just like Tyler. Privately and selfishly, Tyler hoped only he’d been able to connect with Josh on such a special level.

Josh had picked Tyler, which was a thought that gave him chills if he dwelled on it too much. He had just gotten off of a three month tour with a indie singer who Josh was friendly with. Josh had apparently seen Tyler perform, and decided that Tyler was exactly what his show needed. Tyler didn’t get  _ what _ exactly that was, and the thought kept him up at night after Josh had told him that in their first meeting.

He’d gotten a call from Josh’s manager, when he literally was walking into his apartment having just returned from the airport. He was so jetlagged from the flight, he’d answered the unknown number without looking and it took about four tries for him to comprehend who was calling.

“Josh? This is Josh?” Tyler asked again.

“No, this is Evan, Josh Dun’s  _ manager _ . I’m calling  _ for _ him.  _ He  _ wants you to be in his—Josh Dun’s— touring band.”

“Where’s Josh?”

“Eating a burrito.” Evan replied, with a tone that Tyler had come to learn was his smart ass voice.

“But where?!” Tyler insisted, “Like, what city… state… I don’t know, what country?”

“LA… I assume you live here too, ‘cuz everyone who works in this business does.”

Tyler nodded, having just landed on his couch for the first time in forever. This whole conversation felt very disorienting, and he wished that he’d let the voicemail take the call so he could’ve called back once he’d gotten some sleep. 

“Uh.. hello?” Evan asked to Tyler’s apparent silence. 

Tyler tried to explain how he’d just gotten home, but he was well aware he was making a far from excellent first impression. He prayed Evan, being that he was a manager, understood what it was like.

“Ah, I guess you’re too tired for burritos? Josh would like to meet you to, uh, arrange a rehearsal.” Evan asked, and Tyler was not suspicious at all about this, rather confused since all other acts he’d worked with hadn’t wanted to get to know each other socially first.

“Yeah… I guess so. Uh, I’m free tomorrow.”

There was a whispered conversation, muffled by Evan’s hand over the phone.

“Alright, Josh says he knows a good taco place you can meet at.”

“Isn’t he having a burrito now? Wouldn't that be too, uh, similar?” Tyler had a sense of deja vu back to middle school where girls would call him asking if he was interested in their friend, and he’d naively reply what he truly felt (nothing…Being gay had always been a hindrance for getting a girlfriend, much to his grandmother’s chagrin). The angry reply from more than one voice informed him that the girl in question had been waiting silently on the other line.

Apparently high school never ends, though Tyler reminded himself that Josh was the celebrity here and there was no way that someone with a  _ Grammy _ would be anxious or excited to meet an unknown like him.

“Tacos are different.” Evan said shortly. “I’ll text you the details. Noon tomorrow.”

Tyler had been planning on crashing as soon as his body landed on his bed; his state of undress didn't matter, he just wanted to sleep as much as his bladder could handle before his coma would be interrupted by an urgent toilet break. But the call had shaken him up more than he otherwise would have expected. Tyler brushed his teeth and even partially unpacked his suitcase (as in, threw everything into a pile to wash) before he was able to settle down under the covers. 

He fell asleep quickly, the exhaustion finally washing over him and bathing him in total surrender. His last conscious thought was that he hoped he had something clean to wear for this alleged business meeting. 

* * *

Josh was  _ cool  _ and Tyler knew he was absolutely screwed. He should’ve made a run for it before he had been spotted by the singer, but the restaurant was too small; Tyler had been seen as soon as he walked in the door. Josh had waved enthusiastically at him and he wanted to sink into the floor as several heads turned to see who this famous person was meeting. Tyler figured they would be very disappointed to see him, a nobody. 

Tyler shouldn't have even gone through with this, should've said no to meeting Josh as soon as Evan had suggested it. If he had one regret, it was agreeing to go on tour with this adorable and attractive musician, whose grin lit up the hole-in-the-wall place. Tyler cursed his perfectly white teeth to his stupidly perfect messy pink hair for being just too… right. 

“Hey,” Josh said simply, and that was supposed to be nothing of note—the most expected greeting ever; however, the way he smiled at Tyler was something he’d always remembered.

He took Tyler’s breath away and crumbled the casual, professional facade that had served him well no matter who he toured with. Tyler felt like he was blushing, stumbling and shy— he hoped that would be enough of a deterrent to drive Josh away from showing any interest in him. It’d be so much easier to tour with Josh if the latter thought Tyler was a weirdo and just avoided him, only meeting each other on stage once a day.

Unfortunately, Josh was fascinated by Tyler and asked him a million questions, leaning in like everything Tyler had ever wanted in a date. He reminded himself repeatedly this was a “work-related meeting”,  _ not _ romantic, no matter how quickly they dove into discussing where they came from and what their life goals were. Also unfortunately, it seemed like they were on the same page about that as well.

“I’ve never met anyone here… in LA,” Josh waved his arm to indicate the restaurant and the city as a whole, “That  _ got _ my whole conflict thing about leaving Ohio. Like, I miss so much stuff about home...not just the big things like family and friends and Donato’s, but...” 

Josh shrugged and Tyler finished, “It’s just the way people are out there. How life moves and here’s just so…” Tyler didn’t want to say ‘superficial and fame-hunting’ thinking it was probably a bad idea to seem so negative around someone who was 1. Famous 2. Really positive.

Josh nodded, both finding they didn’t have to finish either of their sentences to communicate their point. 

“I wanted to leave, and I really had to if I wanted to make it,” Josh said with a sigh, “Nothing worked out for me in Columbus. I just couldn’t find the right band or person to make music with there. I tried, like, so many bands. None of them really aligned with what I wanted to do. Half the time I was just a fill in, and other times, the music didn’t make me _feel_ anything.”

Tyler almost felt stupid with how much he was nodding. Josh  _ got it _ . 

“Yeah, I felt that too…I had my own band for awhile, and my friends that were in it with me… Okay, I understand that life happens to people and not everyone is cut out to be in this scene, but… it really hurt when they left. I put a lot into this band, and I thought my friends were on board too. I think they were for a time, but,” Tyler took a deep breath and Josh lay a hand on his forearm so gently that Tyler almost didn’t notice except for the tingling warmth. “But, when it’s not going anywhere and the possibility that it’s  _ never _ going to work becomes more obvious. Then people start leaving.”

“So how’d you get out here?” Josh’s hand was unmoving; warm and solid against Tyler’s bare skin. Tyler felt so safe, the stories tumbling out of him easily. 

“I had this job at a venue cleaning up after shows, and I saw The Killers perform one night. It was so mindblowing, I just quit my job. Right there.”

Josh snickered, “They are a really good band.”

“Yeah!” Tyler said emphatically, “I was just depressed and stagnating. Everyone was leaving me, and I was so angry. I had to do something drastic, and I had an epiphany that night.”

“Quitting your job and moving to California is pretty… extreme.”

“And I got another tattoo, just to really break my mother's heart,” Tyler offered his wrist for inspection, and Josh took Tyler’s arm in his hand and pulled it closer. Tyler wondered if he could feel the sudden racing of his pulse below the thin bands and dots. 

“You have more, right? I thought I saw them, when I—” Josh didn't finish his sentence, and Tyler wanted to scream for more information. Had Josh… researched him? Had he noticed the geometric shapes and symbols during that one concert he had attended; where he first spotted Tyler?

“Yeah I've got a few. They've all got really, um, important meanings to me.” Tyler pulled the neckline of his shirt to each side to show him a peek of the two on his chest. 

Josh nodded approvingly, still touching Tyler as he looked into his eyes. “You've got a really defined look here. I like it. I hope you tell me what they all mean one day.”

Tyler felt a blush creeping upon his cheeks. “You've got a lot of beautiful tattoos, too!” He chirped, aware of how nervous his voice was, the touch throwing his composure off. 

Josh grinned and thanked him, giving Tyler his own arm and letting him revel at the colors and the tree and all the little details. Tyler was overwhelmed; he'd never felt such intense emotions at a first date, ever—which, he had to remind himself, this wasn't a date. But seriously, he just wanted to kiss Josh so badly. 

The whole purpose of this meeting was almost an afterthought; Josh only remembered to schedule a rehearsal after his phone buzzed to remind him about a radio interview. Tyler would've felt a twinge of jealousy, but the sincerely regretful apology Josh gave left Tyler with a warm glow that Josh would've preferred to hang out with him. Tyler departed the meeting with a bounce in his step and a second date—or, uh, a rehearsal at the end of the week. 

It gave him more than enough time to study the songs on the set list that Josh had sent— “ _ I've got to play ‘the hits’ but I also really wanna play some lesser known ones. Tell me what you think about the order. What about covers?’ _

Josh wanted input, and it gave Tyler a good excuse to listen to everything Josh had ever wrote and send a couple suggestions. Tyler practically sang with joy at a postscript to the email he nearly missed.

_ ‘I know you're primarily a guitarist but I remembered you said you play piano as well, so would it be cool if you played piano for a few songs?’ _

It was true that Tyler worked as a guitarist, but that was more a series of unfortunate happenstance and not that he particularly  _ liked _ the instrument. Piano was his first musical love and he enjoyed learning all different instruments. It was just that he got a reputation for guitar and therefore was stuck with it as word of mouth spread about his talent. 

Tyler could barely even remember telling Josh about piano—that was such a minute detail, and so to make it worth Josh’s while, Tyler threw himself into practicing and memorizing the songs. Usually after returning from a global tour, he spent a few days catching up with friends, but this time, it was like he had never returned. When he wasn't practicing, he was looking at videos of Josh’s shows for research. He wanted to make this the best damn first rehearsal anyone ever had ever.

The strange behavior wasn't lost on his roommate. Mark was a constant; he followed Tyler from their rental house Columbus all the way to LA. Wryly, Tyler would call him his ultimate supporter— the last one from his  _ ‘twenty one pilots’ _ days. When Tyler announced his move, Mark didn't hesitate. 

“You need someone to keep an eye on you, and c’mon, you don't wanna end up with some weird stranger as a roommate.  _ You  _ are the weird roommate, it'd be wrong if it wasn't you. Besides, what would you do without me?” Mark replied, also citing better film opportunities out on the West Coast. But Tyler had a feeling Mark was watching him for more than Tyler’s own safety; as if waiting for something big and exciting to happen. 

Tyler wanted to tell him there wasn't anything to anticipate— Tyler was destined to hover in the background or liner notes. Mark would roll his eyes, so Tyler knew better than to say it aloud. 

“Tyler, you need to, like, eat a full meal and sleep. Your new  _ boyfriend _ won't be impressed if you pass out on him.” Mark forced a taco in his hand, which made it easy for Tyler to forgive him for breaking his concentration. 

Tyler mumbled something he didn’t even know. 

“Dude, you're gonna be fine!” Mark reassured. “Seems like you guys really hit it off, and besides, you have the job, right? This is just practice.”

Tyler sighed and Mark scoffed.

“You’re in high demand. Josh Dun  _ asked _ for you to go on tour with him. C’mon man, things are on the up-and-up for you. Just remember lil ol’ me when you’re all famous and crap.” Mark clapped him on the back.

Tyler didn’t want to point out that ‘on the up-and-up’ had been said many times before over the years. Sure, they weren’t living off of ramen packets anymore, but things just hadn’t turned out the way he wanted, and Tyler doubted this time would be any different.

“Nah, you’re the first person I’m forgetting. If you had taken out the trash more often, or done my laundry for me a couple times...well…”

“You’re high. I’m only doing your laundry if you’re paying my bills, until then, you can lose my number.” 

They laughed, and Tyler put all thought of the rehearsal the next day out of his mind as they went off to another friend’s apartment for pizza and a movie. The distraction worked for most of the night, except for a single text he received;

“ _ Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow! Gonna be sick to jam with you!” _

Tyler couldn’t help the wide grin, saying “oh, nothing” when asked what was the look for. If anything, he really did need to treat this crush like it was nothing. 

* * *

“Dude! I didn’t know you could play drums  _ that _ well.” Tyler was amazed, and a little hot under the collar. 

They’d been practicing for a number of hours, though neither had really looked at their phones, too busy working. The day had started with a one-on-one rehearsal at a practice studio, and initial shyness had melted away as soon as their instruments had came out. Josh was delighted how quickly Tyler was able to pick up his music. Tyler played it off as if was a by-product of his experience and talent, and not the week of intense study.

Other musicians arrived, filling out the whole touring band, and it seemed that most of them had been on the last tour. Tyler found out he was replacing the guitarist who was on family leave, with an implication of a temporary job, by the tough, shrewd-looking bassist named Darrell. Tyler wasn’t sure he liked Darrell very much, but he’d been around this scene for too long to be intimidated.

Josh was just so  _ cool _ , and while he may not have been the loudest person in the room, he had a quiet command of the proceedings.  There was almost a hesitancy, a surprise that people listened to his directions. He was a relaxed, easy-going person, but he took his music seriously and so everyone there respected him for that.

Tyler just felt… happy playing the melodies that had flowed from Josh’s brain— better than he had playing for any other touring band, and almost as much as he did performing his own music. Josh turned to him frequently, nodding his approval in between verses. 

Josh was able to play just enough guitar to write songs, and stand at the microphone strumming the basic chords— the more complex parts were saved for Tyler to perform. The singer remarked a few weeks later, as they left the stage after soundcheck, that the guitar was more of a prop to hide behind, to help Josh with his anxiety. His true love fell elsewhere...the drums.

Tyler stuck around after the other musicians left that first practice. Josh explained they just needed a little more one-on-one rehearsal, since Tyler was ‘the new guy’. Really, Tyler had done so well, Josh spent most of that time either praising him, or messing around together on different instruments.

It didn’t take long before Josh hopped up behind the drum kit and started blowing Tyler’s mind with his chops. He knew Josh played drums—he read the Wikipedia article after all, but there was something so much more relaxed and comfortable in Josh’s playing than he ever had standing at the microphone. 

“Sick, dude.” Tyler said in awe. He was sitting behind the piano having showed off some melodies he’d been composing for a long time. “How come you don’t drum on stage?” 

Josh shrugged, and underscored the pause with a short fill. “People… the label… They’ve always said to me that I need to be up front, you know? The kids wouldn’t respond well if the drums were in the way”

“That’s silly. You should just add a solo to your show! It’d be really cool!” Tyler insisted, and Josh grinned.

“I’ve thought about doing that for awhile, but I don’t know. Is the time right, now? Don’t people, like, hate drum solos?” Josh bit his lip.

“Not if you’re the one playing them. You’re a real showman.” Tyler could go on and on, overwhelmed already by how damn attractive everything was Josh had done that day. He figured it was much safer to cut himself off before he built up too much embarrassing momentum.

Maybe it was Tyler’s imagination, but it seemed like Josh’s cheeks flushed at that. 

“So.. you’re great at piano. How about other instruments? What else do  _ you _ really want to play?” Josh asked, twirling the sticks.

“Ukulele.” Tyler answered promptly. 

“Cool. Did you bring one with you?” 

“No, is there one here?”

Josh sighed and shook his head. “Well, you’re just going to have to bring yours on tour.”

“So I’m in? I got the gig?” Tyler tried to sound surprised, but his wide grin couldn’t be held back.

“Dude, of course!” Josh scoffed. “I’d kill for a burger— you wanna come with?” 

Tyler should’ve played it cool. He knew he should’ve acted like he had other plans, but he just couldn’t turn down a… not-date with his crush. Both were pleased to find that the other agreed on the best burger place in LA, besides In ‘N Out.

Both moaned in delight, taste buds exploding with the savory slice of heaven, grease dripping down their chins. 

“I didn’t realize I was so hungry!” Josh stared down at his plate in shock, burger already mostly gone.

“And their fries… Mmm.” Tyler tossed one up, missing his mouth and bouncing off his nose.

“Wait! Let me try.” Josh aimed for Tyler’s mouth like he was holding a mini javelin, while filming with his other hand. The first one missed by a mile. The second hit his lip but didn’t go in.

“Dude, last one—these fries are too good to waste.” Tyler insisted.

“Alright. Open wide.” Josh probably didn’t mean to sound, well, so suggestive. Tyler couldn’t help but squirm, but somehow it worked.

They cheered like they broke a world record. Most everyone nearby turned to shoot them a concerned or annoyed look, but with how widely Josh grinned at Tyler, nothing mattered.

That day Tyler made his first appearance on Josh’s Snapchat, and he didn’t realize that he was noticed and tracked even before he left for tour. Somehow his ‘research’ into Josh didn’t uncover the legions of fans who posted about what their favorite singer was doing down to the minute, memorized who he hung out with, and speculated and speculated as to the state of his love life. 

Both parties were surprised by the existence of the other. The fans clamored to find out who this guy was that Josh was joking around with so easily—they thought they knew the usual crew of friends, so new faces were just an exciting mission to identify. And Tyler proved to be a challenge to find.

He, on the other hand, found out about the hunt for “Fry-guy” as soon as he logged into Twitter and just  _ happened _ to search Josh’s name. He didn’t reveal himself right away, not entirely sure what he should actually do, if he did anything at all. He just read some tweets, and tried not to be too encouraged by the people who kept calling their burgers a ‘date’.

Tyler shook his head, trying to clear his head of thoughts that were only going to make the next months difficult. He had to lock them down, since it was a terrible idea to have a huge, huge crush on your extremely friendly, very cute boss.

* * *

Tyler had been a musician for a long time, and he refused to get stage fright, but leading into that first show, he certainly felt the jitters. It  _ had _ to be good, and Tyler paced backstage in the minutes leading up. He checked his guitars multiple times while the opening band warmed up the excitable crowd. The keyboard waited next to the guitar rack—the whole band had rehearsed for a few weeks, and he’d been practicing his piano parts even in his sleep.

Nervous but ready, all apprehension was forgotten as he turned a corner and nearly collided with a pale, shaking Josh.

“Hey dude. Are you okay?” Tyler touched Josh’s arm, leaving it there to center him. 

His eyes were blank, and his face empty but for the steady gnawing of his lower lip, which Tyler could tell was already bleeding. Hoodie up, Josh looked like he was trying to blend into the shadows, and since they were barely minutes away from being called to the stage, hiding was not an option.

Josh shrugged and tried to back away, but Tyler held on. “You look very stressed.”

Josh surrendered his lip for a moment. “Anxious.”

“‘Bout what?” Tyler figured to keep him talking, to distract him, though he wasn’t sure if it was helpful or what Josh really needed. 

“Just about the show… the tour… This happens,” Josh shrugged and waved his hands vaguely, “kinda regularly. There’s a lot of pressure and I’ve got, uh, anxiety problems that I don’t really know how to cope with. And there’s  _ so many _ people out there.” 

Tyler nodded. “You’re right, but dude. You have practiced so much and they’re all excited to see you. You are ready for this.” Tyler moved his arm to wrap around Josh’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, it’s just… I dunno.” Josh leaned into Tyler’s torso, his pink hair brushing against Tyler’s cheek. Tyler realized this was possibly the closest and longest touch they had yet. His heart began to jump just a little, the intimate moment of Josh opening up his insecurities to him was precious and special, regardless of the fact it was happening in this basement hallway. 

“I just… I know we don’t know each other that much, but it’s… it’s been really lonely for me, getting all this attention. It’s  _ just  _ me having to deal with all this. Most everyone I know from my life before  _ don’t  _ know what it’s like, and all the new people I’ve met… I don’t really know who to trust, you know?” 

Tyler squeezed Josh’s shoulders; shoulders that were weighed down by expectations and unprotected in the ultraviolet rays of the limelight. While Tyler himself had unfortunately not been in that new fame situation yet, he’s been around the music business long enough to know that being at the top was isolating and terrifying to everyone, especially the newbies. 

“Josh, from what I’ve seen in this town; hold onto the friends and family you had before to ground you, and find mentors who can help guide you.” Tyler said. “But for right now, this moment and this show—For what it’s worth.  _ I’m  _ here and I have your back. I’ll be with you the whole time. I’ll be stage left the entire show tonight. If you get nervous, come, like, talk to me, okay?”

Josh gave him a weak smile, nodding. Tyler could see every eyelash, every pore, every imperfection and detail of Josh’s face in sharp focus. They were so close, he was able to see the tear in Josh’s lip that held a trace of blood. But it was their eyes that lingered upon the other’s. 

“Thank you.” Josh said softly, and reciprocated the embrace. “I’m really glad you said yes to coming on tour with me.” Much to Tyler’s regret, Josh drew away from the hug, though he stayed close. “This may sound pretty weird, but I hope we can, like, end up being friends?”

“Dude! Sure!” Tyler replied emphatically. Josh grinned as if he couldn’t feel the pain from the split in his lip, while patting Tyler on the center of the chest. Evan’s voice could be heard—far off but close enough, calling 5 minutes to the start of the set.

“Ready?” Josh asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Let’s do this!” Tyler lead the way back towards the stage; to the lights and cheers, to where he was finally identified for the fan accounts.

* * *

‘Fry-guy’ quickly became ‘Ty-guy’ among the die-hards as Tyler became more and more of a presence in Josh’s public and private life. The two of them hung out a lot backstage and on the bus, getting up to all sorts of silly games and hijinks to pass the time. 

Josh bought marshmallow shooters that they aimed across the bus and tried to land in each other’s mouths. It took them several days to realize that throwing food at each other was becoming a  _ thing _ for them. 

“I feel like a seal, or a dolphin or something. You know how they jump for fish?” Tyler remarked, after they tallied who caught more. 

“Bro, I don’t know what this talent means, but…” Josh said and Tyler crossed his arms. 

“Excuse me, but I’ve only ever gotten compliments on my mouth and what it does.” Tyler deadpanned, and Josh choked on the marshmallows he had just shoved in his own mouth.

“Y’all need to calm it with the flirting, or Josh is going to die from the tension soon.” Their bassist remarked from the kitchenette as Tyler leapt up to help the one who was everyone’s meal ticket. “And I can’t afford looking for a new singer to tour with.”

“You wouldn’t miss me, Darrell?” Josh said, with mock-concern, once his throat was clear.

“I sure as hell wouldn’t miss you two waking me up at 4 am with your giggling.” Darrell joked. He pulled  “You two are like, youthful and good lookin’, but some of us need every minute of our beauty sleep.”

To make it easier on the rest of the touring band, as well as the crew, they tried their best to keep it down. But sometimes, they just had too much fun, especially when it was late at night and they were delirious with exhaustion from the show. So the people they lived in such close quarters with grew used to it and just poked gentle fun at the practically inseparable duo. Evan on the other hand, begged them to try and get their sleep schedules somewhat normal. 

“Josh has radio interviews all morning and he’s not going to be rested for  _ anything _ if you guys stay up until the sun rises.” Evan cornered Tyler as Tyler came out from Josh’s hotel room one night. 

Josh had gotten in the habit of inviting Tyler over whenever they had a blessed rare night in real beds. The usual set up was Josh in a private room, while the rest of the crew bunked up together. Josh told Tyler that the label paid for that to encourage him to write music while on the road. Tyler realized, with some guilt, that the invitation to Josh’s room meant more time spent playing video games than helping him work on an album. He wondered if he was distracting Josh from doing his job, but the selfish side of him was thrilled about all this alone time. Josh just had a new album and several collaborating songs and features on other’s tracks, after all; he deserved a bit of a break to hang out and have fun on tour—or at least that’s what Tyler reasoned.

And so after getting ‘caught’ by Evan, who was normally pretty chill, Tyler at least tried to end the marathons early, though for some reason they always turned into sleepovers. 

Tyler still felt the guilt, since they still continued to talk late into the night. But with a quiet confession, a whispered; “sometimes these rooms are too big and… lonely”, Tyler felt that inner conflict disappear. He had a purpose to fill with Josh. 

Both heads resting on pillows, facing each other; Tyler’s eyes had started slipping shut. With his blankets tucked under his chin, Josh looked younger than he had ever been photographed. Tyler felt a new twist of tenderness around his heart—Josh had bared vulnerability, and Tyler wished he knew a way to shoulder some of that burden away from him. 

* * *

The fans were in uproar over this newcomer. Once Tyler started becoming heavily featured in Josh’s Snapchats and Twitter conversations between the both of them kept happening; the fans sifted through and discovered as much as they could about him online. Even his old band’s pages started getting attention. Tyler had to admire their detective skills.

“ _ Josh and Tyler’s friendship is saving the shitshow that is this year. _ ” 

Tyler knew he needed to stop reading what people were saying online about him… them. Faceless fans behind screens and with barely a smidge of an idea about what happened behind the scenes; they were constructing collections of photographs. Videos and evidence that there was something  _ different _ about their relationship. 

He thought he was just pathetic reading into every touch, and yet these fans seemed to think there was something significant to mention. It didn’t help—fuel for a self-destructive fire that Tyler knew would only burn this new bridge he cherished. 

But he couldn’t help that electric feeling when Josh said his name on stage—the spark that crackled from his chest to the tips of his fingers pressed hard into the guitar strings. The thousand kilowatt smile directed at him and brighter than the spotlights pointed at the stage. 

It wasn’t his fault that Josh’s arm found a home around his body at the end of the show in front of all these cheering people, pulling him so close that their sweat from the performance intermingled. A quick word of encouragement that made Tyler’s body impossibly warmer, bathing in the recognition. Even though the rest of the touring band took the bow all together, Tyler was the one Josh paid the most attention to.

From compliments to the inside jokes, their friendship had begun to grow; escalating shoulder squeezes onwards to hugs and even the occasional peck of Josh’s lips into his hair—the more time they spent together traveling countless miles, the more comfortable the affection became. They even began working on music together, which made Tyler feel less guilty for the late nights they spent together. 

* * *

It was so easy, regardless of the crush that really was only causing him the  _ occasional _ mental anguish.

He was happy to have found someone he connected to so quickly, and Josh even agreed. Josh actually agreed so much that he told practically everyone, when he got the chance.

“Dude… How’s it going with the new best friend? I think I’m getting jealous.” Mark greeted Tyler for one of their regular phone calls.

“I dunno what you mean.” Tyler replied cagily, glad that Mark couldn’t see him blushing.

“Have you seen the interviews you’ve been mentioned in?”

“Uh, no… maybe one or two.” 

“Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. Every single interview I’ve looked at today, it’s ‘my buddy Tyler’, ‘my new guitarist, Tyler’, ‘Tyler said the other day…’. I mean, you’re a pretty cool guy but does he know how long you go without actually doing laundry? Or how about the time you left a pot in the sink for so long it started growing new life forms?”

“Thanks for reminding me, now I wanna vomit.”

“Look, he may think the sun shines out your ass, but he’s gotta know your cleaning habits are far from perfect. I’ll be happy to tell him all about—”

“Bro, see if I even let you guys be in the same room.”

“Too bad.” Mark replied. “I’ve got the hotels booked and I’ll start making a list of embarrassing Tyler stories to share. It’s my duty as your favorite roommate ever to inspect all boyfriends.”

“Don’t call him my boyfriend! _ ” _ Tyler said, exasperated, the tender spot just a bit nettled.

A throat was cleared behind him, and Tyler wheeled around to find Josh standing in the doorway of the green room. His head was cocked questioningly. 

Tyler mouthed ‘ _ one moment’ _ to him, and cut Mark’s teasing short. “Dude, bye. Tell the cats I love them. See you soon.”

“See you in a few days.” Mark cackled and the call ended

Mark usually was able to tag along to whatever tour Tyler was on for about a week by getting hotel rooms along the way. He built his portfolio and connections just by hanging around and filming (Tyler could usually score him a press pass), while providing some sanity for Tyler on these long gigs. 

Tyler didn’t want to exploit his friendship with Josh, and that was why he didn’t mention that Mark was coming at all to him directly until a few days before. Tyler told Evan, at least, so he knew where Tyler was instead of at the hotels they booked. 

“Cats? Boyfriend?” Josh’s voice was casual and he munched on chips from the bag in his hand, but Tyler thought the tone was a little forced. 

The ‘gay’ conversation had already been discussed, essentially; Tyler told his some story about an ex-boyfriend and Josh had barely reacted, so it was out there that Tyler wasn’t straight. Josh said he was completely cool with it. 

“My roommate Mark—he likes to, uh, mess with me. He just joking around about… stuff. And the cats are his, but they live at our apartment.”

“What?” Josh exclaimed, seizing upon this new fact, for which Tyler was grateful. “You never mentioned cats before. Do you have photos?”

Josh oohed and aahed over the three cats, telling Tyler that he was a bit jealous because his lifestyle didn’t let him have any pets at the moment. 

“So Mark watches the apartment while you’re gone?” Josh asked.

“Yeah. The cats keep him company.”

“I hope I can meet him and them one day.”

“Actually,” Tyler figured it was a good time to mention Mark’s trip. “He’s going to be following the tour along starting Tuesday. Just for a week.” 

“Oh really? Are the cats coming too?” Josh’s face brightened.

Tyler quickly explained the arrangement, breaking the news that, no, the cats were going to be staying with some friends. 

“And the two of you stay in hotels separate from us?”

“Yeah. We don’t wanna impose—the label would definitely not like it. But don’t worry!” Tyler said in response to Josh’s furrowed brow. “I’ve never missed a bus call yet. We don’t let it get in the way of me working.”

“Nah, it’s not that. It’s probably pretty expensive for you both. I’m cool with him staying in the suite with us and we do have two extra bunks on the bus. And I dunno—you mentioned he’s a film guy? Maybe he could film some tour stuff, too?”

“Dude, that’s… that’s way too nice. You really don’t have to—we don’t want to impose—” Tyler stammered. 

“Nah, man it’s fine! I’ll be too bored in the room and actually…” Josh looked sheepish. “I had a favor to ask you. Uh, never mind, I don’t think you’d like it very much.”

“What? What’s up?” Tyler felt himself flushing all over, head spinning slightly. 

“I had an interview tomorrow morning with a big radio station, and I just— I have to do an acoustic performance and I’m kinda freaking out about it. It’s super, super early in the morning—actually, never mind, you should probably sleep in since we have a long drive, and…”

“Hey.” Tyler said softly, resting a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Do you want me to come along? I can be your accompanist and you won’t have to worry about that part.” 

“It’s okay if you—“ 

Tyler cut him off. “It’s cool. I’ll do it.”

Beneath Tyler’s hand, Josh’s shoulder slumped and relaxed. “Morning stuff stresses me out. I’m always nervous my voice won’t be awake yet.”

“I got you, man. We’ll warm each other up and then we’ll blow the roof of that radio station, alright?”

“Alright, but you’re the one who’s gonna pay for damages then.” Josh laughed and nudged him. 

“Aw crap, I’m gonna need a raise then, boss.” Tyler pouted and Josh continued to chuckle. 

* * *

Picking Mark up at the airport was like coming home after spending years stranded in a foreign country; as if he was finally recognizing a friendly face after spending months surrounded by strangers. Tyler had made friends on tour, but nothing compared to seeing someone who knew him so well, who had so much shared history with him. Even though they texted regularly, there was still a lot to catch up on, and people to introduce to him. 

“ _ That’s  _ Darrell.” Tyler whispered about the bassist who was grumbling ahead of them on the line for catering. 

Mark nodded with wide eyes; he’d heard a lot about this particular person. Darrell was always a source of entertainment and snazzy lines like ‘son, if you still want a mattress to sleep on tonight, stop crunching those chips’.

But the person Mark had heard so much about was busy doing the usual press junket as it always was in each new city. With no responsibilities until showtime, the two of them wandered the city for the day, and Tyler didn’t even see Josh until they were about to walk out on stage. 

“Where’s Mark?” He asked, looking around. 

“Down with the photographers. Again, thanks for everything.” Tyler received a smile in return. 

“Hotel night and day off tomorrow—Mario Kart till we pass out. Maybe I’ll actually win one time!” Josh said hopefully. 

“Against Mark and me? Not a chance.”

But it didn’t seem that Josh’s lack of talent when it came to any iteration of Mario video games prevented Mark and him from immediately becoming friends. It was almost like they’d all meant to be friends—the three of them together. 

“Zombies, pirates, or ninjas?” Mark asked, a late night question as they were about a minute from sleep. Surrounded by the remains of their room service splurge and mini bar raid, and sprawled on the beds; they’d thoroughly exhausted themselves. 

“Zombie ninjas.” Tyler said at the same time Josh said “Aliens.”

Josh always got a suite and Mark had taken over the couch while Tyler and Josh shared a bed so massive, they weren’t even close to touching. 

“They aren’t real.” Tyler sighed, eyes shut and used to this play-argument they’d had before. 

“And zombie ninjas are?” Josh countered. 

“Well ninjas  _ did  _ exist, so if the zombie apocalypse happens… they could come back.” 

“Who would win?” Mark asked. 

“Aliens.” Josh and Tyler agreed. Tyler cracked an eyelid to look at the other side of the bed. Josh always slept curled on his side; he had grown fond of looking at the cloud of faded pink hair just peeking out of the blanket pile. 

This time, Josh wasn’t asleep yet. Tyler met his gaze and soft smile with a flush that raced to his cheeks as he smiled back. 

“G’night.” Josh whispered, and Mark’s soft snores guided them off to sleep. 

* * *

Tyler knew it was silly and immature to experience any hint of jealousy with Mark’s new friendship with Josh. They both were his really, really good friends and if anything, he knew he should be happy that they were getting along so well. 

He blamed The Crush, a feeling that was so strong, Tyler considered it to be almost demonic-like possession. He barely had control over  _ It _ , losing his grasp when other ‘contenders’ were nearby. Mark wasn’t competition, and Tyler’s rational brain knew that, but this darker side would rear up and fill him with a rush of panic and anger when Josh’s hand lingered too long on Mark or tongue licked his lips suggestively, whether on purpose or not. 

But Mark knew Tyler too well, and had guessed enough to fill in the blanks from what was left unsaid from the phone calls leading up to this trip. And Mark was far from the type to let Tyler get away with his bull crap. 

“Bro. Chill the eff out.” Mark had pulled Tyler aside, hidden between tour buses to bring him back to his senses. 

Tyler had been in a foul mood ever since he woke up with a neck cramp from his bunk and found that Mark and Josh had headed into the city for breakfast without him. Never mind that Josh had brought him an egg sandwich back, Tyler’s thank you had been stiff and Mark happened to catch the face Tyler pulled that Josh didn’t notice as he recounted something funny they’d seen on their walk. 

“Just leave me alone. I’m not feeling well.” Tyler had tried to brush past him but Mark stood his ground. 

He knew better than to let Tyler stew in it, knowing it would all coalesce and turn inward, and it would be hard to pull Tyler out of whatever internal storm he’d descend into. It’d happen a few times before—Tyler was an emotional guy, who felt strong loyalty bordering on possession, and who feared rejection almost more than death. Mark had seen Tyler with crushes before, but he’d never had to work and live with one as it developed. Mark needed Tyler to wake up to this downward spiral. 

“Ty, I’m not here to—you know I wouldn’t—” Mark wasn’t sure what to say, Tyler face was hard to read if he was about to explode or cry. It was hard to not provoke a large emotional reaction when he got like this. “Tyler, you’re one of my best friends; I would never do anything to hurt you, and you know that. So don’t put your shitty mood on either of us, alright? If you’re not in a good headspace, just—do what you need to do and we’ll—I’ll stay clear.”

Tyler nodded, deflating visibly and shrinking into the hoodie he’d thrown over to hide himself. Tyler would take the day to find a quiet room and write songs he believed no one would ever hear on albums they’d never buy. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, feeling wretched despite Mark’s concerned face. 

“It’s okay.” Mark reassured. “He’s a great guy and I can see why you like him so much.”

Something stuck in his throat sharpened, and his face flushed. Tyler nodded, miserable at these lapses and hidden intentions. He felt so pathetic to be so overwhelmed by this rollercoaster. 

“And, as someone who wants the best for you… I think he’s into you too. He keeps asking me questions and talking all about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt the same.”

“Please don’t say that.” Tyler couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to feel any hope even if it was what he wanted. “It’s not that simple.”

Mark opened his mouth, but Tyler cut him off. “I can’t handle this today. Let it go, dude.”

With a sigh, Mark thought better of what he was about to say and let Tyler walk past to find somewhere to expel the negativity. He was good at covering up for Tyler, had been for years, so in the little downtime that Josh had before the show, Mark distracted him from Tyler’s absence. 

* * *

The rest of Mark’s stay went off without a hitch and there was already discussion about getting him involved with the production. His videos and photos had impressed the right people, as Tyler knew was bound to happen. He’d gotten over that rabid envy and was simply excited his friend’s talent had been recognized. Tyler was sad to leave Mark at the airport, even though he knew the Columbus date was around the corner and they’d be seeing each other again soon. 

Their last night together consisted of a karaoke party with most of the crew and bowls of alcoholic punch that had Mark still tipsy as he waved goodbye from the terminal’s entrance the next morning. Josh had unfortunately been coached his conserve his voice, though provided some interesting dance moves. 

“Josh, keep up the music career—stripping isn’t in your future.” Evan shouted as Josh tried spinning on a pole in the room. 

“But I’ve been working on my lap dances.” Josh pouted. 

Raucous cheering pushed him to clumsily rock his hips on the nearest seated person, who just so happened to be a very sober and embarrassed Tyler. 

“You’re gonna have to work harder than that if you want these dollar bills.” Tyler tried to play it cool but Josh’s eyes were dark and heavy lidded, making his heart skip a few beats. Josh slid to his knees and gripped Tyler’s thighs—where was this going? Tyler panicked. Didn’t he know they were in public and surrounded by everyone?

The moment was ruined and dignity saved by Mark ‘accidentally’ knocking over a table. Tyler sent a silent thank you to him, and filed away the moment before to be revisited alone. 

Tyler missed a different moment, however, where Josh stared at him in starry eyed wonder. The party was winding down and most people had left. Tyler had sung a few songs earlier but they’d all been loud and silly as everyone goofed off. 

“Sing me a lullaby!” Mark had proclaimed with his face on the table. Josh was curled on the couch next to him, looking tired and tapping aimlessly on his phone. 

Tyler picked a classic, one of his favorite oldies that he covered a few times at a local open mic night. 

“ _ Wise men say, only fools rush in.”  _ Tyler sang, giving his first honest singing performance to Josh, whose mouth had dropped open. It wasn’t hidden that Tyler could carry a tune, and had his own band at one point. Josh had even told Tyler that he’d listened to his music before—but if one was a fly on a wall for that moment, it was obvious that Josh was having a revelation. It was private and unwitnessed but for one silent, observant, and gruff observer. 

* * *

“Please tell me that you’re not  _ completely _ oblivious.” Darrell said a week later. He’d been crabby since his luggage was lost a few days earlier and he had to buy all new socks and undies. Everyone had been treading lightly around him—while he was gruff, for the most part he was a nice guy. 

“Sorry. ‘Bout what?” Tyler asked tentatively, hoping that he remembered to put the milk  _ back _ in the fridge after his cereal. He didn’t remember any sharp turns that would cause the milk carton to slam to the floor and explode… again. 

“You do realize that you’re the only person that goes with him to all the interviews?”

“No! Evan’s there!” Tyler felt immediately defensive. He wouldn’t be surprised if the other musicians felt jealous—he knew the type. 

“I mean in front of the camera.” 

“Well, I accompany him on guitar and stuff.”

“Not every time, right? Sometimes you sit there with him and talk.” Darrell said pointedly. 

“So?” Tyler crossed his arms, getting angry; what had the other musicians been saying behind his back. 

Darrell was right; Josh had been asking Tyler to join him for interviews, saying that having Tyler around helped calm him down. They had fun, trying to joke around and make silly stories up to confuse the interviewers. 

“I’m just saying.” Darrell’s voice, a slight drawl, was placating. “Josh really likes you, and he’s come to rely on you a lot. I’ve toured with a lot of people before, and I know you have, too— Josh is a good guy. Hard worker, nice person, and I like working with him; that’s why I’ve toured with him a couple times. So just…don’t mess with him, okay? I like you well enough and you’re really helping him out, so just don’t screw this up.”

Tyler wasn’t aware that his jaw had fallen and he found himself nodding in agreement to the ominous proclamation. 

“Good talk, kid.” Darrell stood from the kitchen table, clapped Tyler on the back, and then headed off the bus.

So many people had said this to him, joked about Josh’s apparently reciprocal feelings, that Tyler wondered if he needed to do something about it. It was almost tangible, this tension, that it  _ needed _ to be addressed, but once again he was held back by the fear it would all fall apart. How could he ask and ruin this friendship, when Josh had  _ just  _ asked him to come along to an award show? 

Their music collaborating had been going so well. Tyler couldn’t destroy this blossoming musical relationship, especially since the ukulele part Tyler had been working on would likely be featured on the next album once Josh finished writing lyrics to go along with it. 

Josh was trustworthy and kind enough, that if it didn’t go the way that Tyler wanted—more likely than not—he hoped and believed they could still work together. But any sort of confession would cause such a huge change that Tyler frankly did not want to say “I think I have feelings for you”. Even if it turned out the way he fantasized, the possibilities terrified him. Tyler was paralyzed, and it was so, so much easier to keep happily going along with the way things were. 

They matched white suits and the fans went crazy over how ‘bridal’ they looked, which Josh and Tyler just giggled about as they sat in their prime seats. So many celebrities came up to Josh, introducing themselves and offering collaborations on tracks that would likely be hits. Tyler shrunk back, knowing he was a nobody, but Josh insisted on introducing him too. 

“Thanks for sticking with me.” Josh whispered as a notorious bad boy pop singer swished away after proposing a ‘jam session’ that would probably be more cocaine than actual writing—Tyler knew his reputation was true. “All this shmoozing makes me… you know.”

“I got you, man. I’m your backup.” Tyler reminded him. “Let see how many celebrities we can photobomb.”

It was an Easter egg hunt for the fans, trying to find them as they waved and posed throughout the awards show. 

‘ _ #bless these two ridiculous boys in their bright af suits. I’d be bored watching this shit w.o them,’  _ commented a fan. 

Josh was nominated for best new artist, and he spent the whole week before claiming there was ‘not a chance in hell’ that he’d possibly win. 

“Honestly, I’d rather not. What the heck am I going to say on stage?” Josh said for the hundredth time, eyeing his watch as a girl group danced on stage. 

“How about… ‘thank you, Evan, the best tour manager ever’?” Evan chimed in. 

“Yeah, ‘thank you’ is enough. They’d be happy if you do a short speech.” Tyler laughed. 

“Okay, but what if I open my mouth and just throw up everywhere?” Josh popped yet another stick of gum in his mouth. 

“Spell out ‘Thanks’ in your puke?” Tyler suggested. 

“Gross. I’ll do it.” Josh finally chuckled. 

The moment for the award came, and Josh’s hands clutched the arms of the chair. The camera was on him and the other nominees, and Tyler was too afraid of tabloid speculation to try and soothe him with a reassuring touch. To anyone who didn’t know him, it would look as if Josh was just desperate to win, but his fans and loved ones knew better. Tyler fixed a benign smile on his face as some hot and famous model read through the list of artists, and after what felt like an eternity, announced that the winner was…

“Josh Dun!”

Tyler’s brain didn’t register the sounds that followed, his ears felt as if they were underwater and everything was reduced. His entire focus was on Josh, who had frozen. The video replay later had shown applause and people standing to congratulate the young singer, but Josh turned to his left. 

“Help me.” Josh gasped, his face pale. “I can’t go up there alone.”

Immediately, Tyler forgot about having no physical contact while the cameras were on them. It didn’t matter when Josh looked to be about three seconds away from a panic attack. Tyler pulled him to his feet and hugged him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time.” Tyler said in his ear and then nudged him along. 

Tyler said nothing as he stood in front of the cameras, just lingered behind Josh as he addressed the crowd quickly. The sea of faces were turned to them, all blending together until there was nothing but bright lights and  _ Josh _ . Josh who was still miraculously on stage and mostly composed, even able to crack a joke or two. 

For as genuine and kind as Josh was a hundred percent of the time, there was a mask he wore to cope with the strain of the limelight. Tyler was able to look through the eye holes and see the fear. The anxiety darkened Josh’s edges and crept in like swirling, strangling vines. Josh tried to keep his head above the waterline, distracted with fun and friends, and of course the music, but these thoughts were always present. 

He could do the concerts; the music was something he needed and relied on. All Josh ever said he wanted to do was to share the music he held in his bones. Sometimes there was stage fright, but going out in front of the fans was a stronger pull than the need to run away. But these events—award ceremonies, major television appearances; those facets of fame were tipping him over the edge of what he could tolerate as a solo artist. 

Tyler had noticed all this and more—he had spent a lot of tour just observing Josh; it was hard to differentiate whether out of concern or because of The Crush. And the more he watched, the more of the burden he wanted to alleviate or distract from. 

For all the success and recognition, Tyler could see Josh struggling. The mask slipped as Josh finished accepting the award and they walked into the darkness of the backstage area. Only a few hundred feet to the press area, and Tyler could hear Josh’s shuddering breaths over the din of people talking all around them. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” Tyler reassured, taking Josh’s hands and moving them to a wooden divider serving as a wall in these close quarters. They stood face to face, Tyler trying to ground the singer in the moment. “You did amazing. I’m so proud of you, and that’s it. No more awards for you.”

Josh’s lips were raw and so, so close. Tyler wanted to meet them and tenderly soothe the skin and his racing thoughts. 

“Do you have gum in your pocket?” Tyler asked unnecessarily, and reached to where he knew it was being kept. Josh lips parted and he took the gum without a word; Tyler wondered if his jaw ached from all the chewing he’d done that day. 

They stood together till Josh’s breaths evened. “Can’t believe that happened.” Josh eventually said, looking down at their still-clasped hands. 

“You did it!” Tyler encouraged. “You deserved that award so much.”

“Thank you.” Josh’s face was still so perfectly close. “Thanks for doing this for me. You’ve been, like, an anchor for me through this whole tour. Seriously, thank you. I don’t know if I could’ve done that—you—”

Evan cleared his throat, having appeared silently next to them. “Josh, I know you need some time, but you’ve just got to go to the press room and answer some questions. Take a few pictures. That’s it for the night. I’d say might as well get that over with, okay?”

Evan had Josh’s best interests at heart and had been with him for a few years—he knew Josh’s boundaries and capabilities better than even Josh sometimes; a mark of a good manager. 

Josh shrugged. “Two minutes?”

Evan nodded. “You got it, dude. Congrats again, by the way.”

Josh’s smile was shaky but the mask slipped back on over it, protecting him from the dazzle of the camera flashes. Tyler stood back, the longing was heavy in his stomach; for what, he was not sure. 

* * *

From the whirlwind of celebrity encounters and award show buzz to post-ceremony after parties—Josh was able to wrangle a few extra invites, which Tyler gracious declined so other tour members, who actually liked partying till all hours of the night, could go. If anything, they’d reached a point in their friendship where Josh knew to expect that Tyler would rather avoid that scene. 

“All those sweaty, drunk people? Dude, the amount of drugs I’ve seen at the few after parties I’ve been too—yeah, I’m happy to sit this out.” Tyler tossed himself onto the bed after they came back to the hotel for Josh to change. He bounced a little and then starfished face down on the very first bed in the suite. 

“Lucky you.” Josh immediately began removing his suit with little care for wrinkles. “Except you’re gonna miss the post-party Taco Bell run. That makes it all worth it.”

“You’re right. That’s tough, but it’s a decision I can live with… more like sleep with… sleep on, I mean. Night night, Joshie boy. Make smart decisions.” Tyler said in a sing-song voice, picking his head up. 

“Okay,  _ Mom _ .” Josh replied sarcastically. 

“Mom? That’s a new one. Usually people call me ‘daddy’.” Tyler wiggled his eyebrows at Josh. 

Josh snorted with laughter as he struggled with a pair of skinny jeans. “Dude. You are  _ so _ not ‘daddy’ material.”

“How do you know?” Tyler’s voice dropped just the slightest; a little hoarse around the edges. 

Josh stopped and swallowed visibly. His hands paused on the button of his jeans, a momentary lapse in focus, but Tyler was fully aware of the sudden tension and how utterly shirtless Josh was. 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, well. Have a good time tonight, and if you  _ maybe _ wanna bring me back some tacos, I wouldn’t hate it.”

“Alright,  _ daddy _ .” Josh said and broke down laughing. The tension had been cut and a few seconds later Josh was dressed and out the door. 

Tyler exhaled so forcefully, he could feel his entire body deflate. He let his body meld with the bed, mind spinning through the past few hours; the rush of being up there on stage in front of all those cameras with just him and Josh. If anything, he realized that his days had been full of Josh ever since the tour began and just now he was completely alone for the first time in awhile. 

His hand drifting to his pants happened naturally, an automatic response to knowing that no one would be interrupting for a few hours at least. Tyler was so tired he just let the pleasure move through his body, barely trying to direct his thoughts. The maxim ‘don’t think about Josh, don’t think about Josh’ turned quickly and with the full knowledge that he would feel guilty very soon, his mind wandered to every inch of skin Tyler had been lucky to see. 

Tyler had a catalogue of memories he was ashamed to have stored; a betrayal of their easy, platonic relationship. The loneliness and ache of wanting his best friend caused him do such things that only made him to feel worse. Tyler found that he loved torturing himself with imagining Josh’s body against his, touching and kissing and whispering everything he ever felt for him. 

He came with an embarrassing, stifled whimper that could have been mistaken for a sob. As the last tremors of pleasure faded, the boiling disgust rose to berate him.

Tyler gave up. The day had been enough of a rollercoaster. Usually he’d be kept awake with the constant replay of everything that went wrong, but this time the post-orgasmic drowsiness took him away first—though he did clean up before that happened. No need to have Josh return hours later to find evidence. 

Instead, Tyler woke to the smell of beef. He couldn’t tell what time of day it was, but the long curtains had a faint glow that said that the sun had at least risen. In the soft light, he could see the single taco left on his pillow, inches from his nose. Beyond that he could see to where Josh had collapsed onto his own bed, fully clothed and diagonal. One shoe on as his feet hung off the bed; Tyler listened to Josh breathing heavy and steady. 

Despite the inner turmoil over the man sprawled carelessly next to him, Tyler smiled. Josh had selflessly remembered to bring a taco for him—even if it was placed with a little lack of foresight. Tyler correctly guessed that may be a sign that Josh would be nursing a hangover later. In return, he put a water bottle next to Josh’s face and dozed back off to sleep, too. 

* * *

No matter how long Tyler lived in LA, or all the tours he went on around and around the world—turning into his parents’ driveway was the only place where he felt like he’d arrived home. And for all the tension or issues when growing up, the distance apart made their relationship better. He knew they missed him more than they’d care to admit, and the mega barbecue they always hosted whenever he was in town was enough proof. This time they were especially lucky because there was going to be two show nights, since it was a homecoming for Josh as well.

“You sure it’s okay if I’m here? I don’t want to crash your family’s party.” Josh had asked Tyler repeatedly; from the moment he’d been invited, then the morning after the awards, on the plane, and then again when waiting for Zack to pick them up at baggage claim. 

The rest of the crew had been milling about fetching their bags, coordinating transport to the hotel for the weekend, whereas the two local boys were going to stay at their childhood homes instead. 

But first, they were going to stop at the barbecue. 

“Dude, my family’s so excited. I’ve never brought an artist I’ve toured with to our house before.” Tyler reassured him. 

“Really? Wow, our relationship is getting really serious then. Can’t believe I’m ‘meeting the parents’ stage already.” Josh joked and Tyler forced a quick smile, trying to maintain the humor, not letting himself read too much into the statement.

“Now I’ve got to meet your parents, and then I won’t feel too guilty when we elope.” Tyler replied matter-of-factly. 

“Alright. Tonight.” Josh said firmly. “My mom is cooking dinner and all my siblings will be there. You can come! Abby said she made her famous cookies.” Josh immediately got excited. 

It was Tyler turn to try and turn down the invitation. 

“Josh! I don’t— That’s your family dinner and you’ve been away for so long and so busy—a barbecue is different. I don’t wanna impose.” Tyler said, shocked. 

“Nah, man, it’s cool. I insist. I, uh, want you all to meet. Cuz it’s been, like, cool hanging out with you all tour and I kinda… have mentioned you to them. They’d like to meet you.” Josh started looking at the ground, the toe of his shoe scuffing the tile as he kicked at the floor. 

“Okay, Okay. I’d be happy to go meet your family.” Tyler changed his tune, seeing how obviously uncomfortable Josh was. “Especially if they tell embarrassing stories about you.”

“Oh God.” Josh’s face was immediately regretful. “My mom is totally gonna show you photo albums of  _ the worst _ pictures of teenaged me.”

Tyler rubbed his hands together, cackling. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

Tyler was relieved how cool Zack played it when meeting Josh at the airport. Not that he expected his brother to fawn over Josh or act super weird—for as much as Josh was worried about what his mom would say, Tyler knew Zack had just as much blackmail material over  _ him _ .

But it all went well—Josh was a nice guy, so Tyler wasn’t shocked that Zack got along with him, as well as everyone else at the barbecue. But it went beyond being just ‘nice’. There was a certain magnetic warmness that made people want to be near him. 

The whole scene was all too domestic—Josh talking easily to neighbors, friends, and family, eating a hamburger made by his dad, in the backyard Tyler grew up with. It was surreal, to take Josh out of the context of touring and new cities, airplanes and buses, and plop him in the middle of something completely normal. There were no screaming fans, or photographers capturing every movement. This was  _ home _ and Josh easily fit into that paradigm like he always had been there. Josh and his stupidly beautiful face, and newly-dyed bright purple hair that stood out easily.

Tyler showed him the basement where he began creating music, and spent hours converting his sadness to songs. A sacred place—Josh reverently touched the old piano still housed down there. Dusty, but well loved. Both respected how important this moment was. 

“Have I told you that I downloaded all your music wherever I could find it?” Josh admitted. 

“No. Dude… really?” Tyler had played him a few old demos here and there, but he was unaware Josh had looked him up. 

“It’s...really good. Like, dude, you are so, so talented.” Josh said honestly. “I love what I’ve found and I, uh, really want to hear more from twenty one pilots.”

“Me too… I’ve always thought about doing it solo, but I dunno… I don’t think it’s supposed to just be me. It’s a weird feeling I have.”

“Oh…” Josh said softly, tracing circles in the dust on the piano. “Do you have people in mind?”

Tyler shook his head. “No… hurts to much to think about. Um, do you mind if we go back upstairs? I think I hear my mom yelling my name.”

They left the basement, with a peculiar air between them as if Josh wanted to ask something, but lost the moment. 

Besides that quick moment of nostalgia and pain, Tyler found himself receiving many thumbs-up from the attendees; approval of Josh, infuriatingly too similar of a reaction to introducing a new significant other. Even his mom, the toughest critic of them all, liked Josh right off the bat—not like it  _ should _ matter to Tyler, but it totally did and he was utterly relieved; up until he remembered there would be a reciprocal ‘mom approval’ when he met Josh’s family later.

* * *

“That was fun!” Josh said cheerily, waiting for his own brother to pick them up instead, since neither had a car in Ohio. They waited on the curb, tossing pebbles across the pavement “You didn’t say how funny your family is; ‘specially your dad.”

“I try to set the bar low so they can easily exceed it.” Tyler replied. “Anything I should know about your family? Anything I should avoid, like, saying?”

Josh shrugged. “Not really… they’ve relaxed out since we’ve all grown up and gotten tattoos. Nowadays they’re pretty chill—did I ever tell you that we’d have these, like, huge fights over me listening to bands and stuff?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’d take my drums away if they caught me with ‘bad music’, so I’d just hide the Green Day CDs under my mattress. I mean, I wasn’t the easiest kid ever; for awhile they thought about sending me to military school, but—”

“You? You were a problem child?” Tyler was shocked; his jaw had dropped slightly. They had talked about growing up and Tyler had definitely read his fair share of articles about Josh, but somehow that detail hadn’t been mentioned before. “No way… dude, you’re like  _ the nicest _ .”

Josh flushed a little. “Thanks, man. But yeah, being a teenager sucked. I was a really angry kid, but I grew up and we’re all loads better now. The drums helped a lot.”

“Seems like you really love the drums. Have you decided to, I dunno, drum more on stage?” Tyler asked, watching Josh, whose face had become more serious.

“I miss the drums so much.” Josh confessed. “Back in the day, I would wait throughout school, or work, and just look forward to going home and practicing. It was—kinda still  _ is— _ my life, but the other music parts have taken over. And if I’m being honest… I don’t know how I feel about all that.”

Tyler just reached out and grasped Josh’s wrist; the contact was natural and necessary to support such a bold, scary statement. Josh had always put up a good front, but throughout this tour, Tyler had seen the little cracks stretching into hairline fractures of Josh trying to balance all these responsibilities and expectations. Tyler’s reaction was something innate, an understanding between the two of them that Josh needed a hand to keep him afloat and grounded. 

“I’m here.” Tyler almost didn’t need to say it, but Josh looked grateful nonetheless. “And I get what you mean. I’ve been doing these backup gigs for years now and I havent like really  _ written  _ my own songs in forever. Haven’t been able to just dedicate myself to that—nothing against touring with you, I’m loving that. It’s just… yeah. Seems like we both are doing not what we really _ want  _ to do.”

“Just doing what we have to; the obligations, I guess.” Josh agreed, and then seemed to shake off the sadness. “Let’s talk about this another time… I just wanna enjoy home for now.”

“Yeah, of course.” Tyler squeezed his wrist and pulled his hand back as Josh pointed out that the car driving down the street toward them was his brother’s. 

* * *

Tyler should’ve known better— _ of course _ Josh’s family was sweet and welcoming, just like him. Josh was also right about the embarrassing photos (“ _ Oh my God, Dude. You were such an emo kid.” _ Tyler had whispered loudly, and received collective laughter in response).

It was all so homey; from the quotes about family and faith on the wall, to everyone crammed around the dining table, talking rapidly as they tried to catch up as quickly as possible. Since Josh spent so much time far away, these precious, normal moments were few and far between. 

There wasn’t a moment where Tyler felt like he was imposing. Even if they all had to press close together around a table not meant for that large a group, Josh melded to his side as they ate the chicken roast and veggies—healthier than either of them had eaten in recent memory—it was perfectly ordinary in the most memorable way. 

Plates finished; everyone was comfortably full and the stories flowed easily. 

“We always knew that Josh wouldn’t stick around here, well, once he started talking about his music, we knew it.” Josh’s dad explained. Josh started to say something, but his dad continued. “Yes, we all know you love Ohio, but to make it as a musician, you had to go. Did Josh ever tell you about Nashville?”

Tyler shook his head; that city would be later in the tour, and it hadn’t come up before.

“I’m sure you know all about his drumming, but he didn’t move to California initially—I’ve noticed not a lot of interviews mention this about your history.” Josh’s mom said, and the singer shook his head and shrugged. 

“It’s not really the best time in my life so I don’t really talk about it.” Josh said with a hint of warning in his voice. 

“Well, the long and the short of it, was that Josh went there to be a drummer, and—”

“Didn’t work out.” Josh cut in. “Wasn’t very happy there, was dating a kinda crappy person at the time, and just couldn’t get anything consistent. No regular gigs or studio positions.”

“How’d you end up in LA?” Tyler asked. He didn’t know about this whole Nashville chapter in Josh’s life, especially nothing about a shitty ex. He did know the lore of how Josh was ‘discovered’ by a label rep at an open mic night in a coffee shop in California.

“Was on vacation—scraped some money together to get away from Nashville for a bit, and turned out to be the big break I needed. The friend I was visiting convinced me to do the open mic night and sing a dumb little song I wrote when I was sad. Dunno, the label guy—Peter is his name—said there was something unique that he knew would take off, and here we are now.” Josh shrugged, as if he was the one most in disbelief about how life had turned out. 

Everyone at the table was quiet for a moment, and Josh’s mom stood and went into the kitchen. 

“It’s not that I don’t want this but… but…” Josh started, but couldn’t put it into words. 

“Just not what you pictured?” Tyler filled in, but Josh’s agreement was lost among the hoopla for the cake Mrs. Dun carried into the room. 

They broached the subject again, later that night. As if they weren’t stuffed enough from a barbecue and a home cooked dinner, Tyler took him to his favorite hiding spot.

He didn’t think many people would understand the slightly illegal romanticism of climbing onto the supermarket’s roof with a bag of Taco Bell, but Josh did. 

“This is perfect, dude.” Josh smiled at the stars above them. “Honestly, I’m so happy we met. This makes up for you not getting burritos when I asked you the first time.”

Tyler rolled his eyes; this had come up before. “As I’ve said before; one—you didn’t ask me, Evan did—”

“Evan’s my wingman, he does what I ask him to!” Josh insisted, looking to Tyler who was sitting next to him and taking in as much of his face as the dim light allowed. “Except not really. He’s kind of an independent guy.”

“And two—I only rescheduled ‘cause I was literally  _ dying _ of exhaustion.”

“Weak.” Josh laughed and nudged Tyler; they both knew it was all a joke. “But don’t worry. You’ve made up for it.” 

“You’ve survived meeting my family. I think we’re stuck with each other now.” Tyler said. 

“And you’ve survived mine.” Josh winced. “Family always tends to embarrass us, huh?”

“Mine could always be worse, so I don’t think it was too bad. I’m kinda relieved.” Tyler started in on the food. 

“Yeah, I guess mine weren’t that bad, either. Just wish they hadn’t brought up Nashville.” Tyler could tell that although Josh said he didn’t like talking about that time in his life, it was almost like he needed to tell Tyler about it. 

Delicately he said. “Hey, man. No pressure; you don’t have to tell me anything. But I’ve found that my own bad times helped the music and everything.”

Josh nodded, eyes back to the stars. “That was basically my whole first album. My ex wasn’t… the nicest. Jealous— would always kinda put me down for never being able to book anything. I think they wanted to keep me vulnerable and dependent on them.”

Tyler was on high alert—he recognized the hesitation to mention gender-specific pronouns when referring to the past partner. Josh had always been a bit cagey about his romantic past. 

“Is… your ex… still out in Nashville?” Tyler asked, unaware of the chalupa’s contents dripping onto the roof. 

“Yeah. From there originally. We met online. Stupid…” Josh’s face was dark and closed off; regretful. “I mean, meeting online isn’t so bad but I was kind of mislead. I was lonely and sad and he talked up Nashville so much that it felt like the right move at the time. We hung out for a week before and then I decided to move. Dumb…”

Tyler’s breath had caught in his throat and he didn’t dare say anything about the apparent confession. 

“And he cheated on me so go figure.” Josh said, finally meeting Tyler’s eyes and that’s when he knew it was all on purpose. 

Tyler kept his face steady. “Dude, I’m really sorry that happened to you. And I, um, really appreciate that you felt comfortable sharing that with me.” Tyler’s therapist would’ve been proud that he used her lingo. 

Josh sighed. “Yeah, I, uh wanted people—my new friends and stuff—to know before anything uh,  _ comes out _ online.  _ He _ messaged saying that I’m profiting off our relationship and that he’s not pleased that I’m not more grateful to him for, like, helping me get big.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s bullshit!” Tyler exclaimed. “Is he blackmailing you to get him to keep quiet?”

“He tread on the safe side of blackmail—the label can’t do much about it. He probably just wants to fuck with my head, as if I don’t have enough going on.” Josh crumbled a wrapper aggressively. 

“I’d kick his ass for you, but I don't know if I’d win” Tyler volunteered, and actually got a laugh in return.

“I appreciate it, man, but no offense, he’s pretty damn fit. It’s all whatever. I think one day, probably soon, people will find out. And I don’t know if I’m ready, but I’ll just have to deal.” 

“Well, I’m here. I’ve got your back. My gay ass supports you, even if I have soft hands that aren’t helpful in combat.” Tyler pat him with his forearm, mindful of his messy hands. 

Josh instead, took it as a cue to lean over and bear hug Tyler, who felt that full-body rush to have Josh so close. And it was just the two of them, alone and open to one another—perfect for anything to happen. Josh’s face was along his and it would’ve only taken a few coaxing movements to kiss. They were so close, and Tyler could even hear a little voice telling him to take the chance. 

He fought the urge, and other words slipped from his mouth. Something else he’d been thinking for awhile, but hadn’t been voiced yet—

“We should get matching tattoos.” Tyler announced to the night. 

Josh drew back quickly. “What?!”

“W-we should getting tattoos. I mean, they don’t  _ have to _ match, but I feel like commemorating this tour.”

Anyone else would’ve said no, or thought about it for longer, but Josh radiated excitement. “Yes!” He exclaimed. “I haven’t matched tattoos with anyone before. What should it be? Do you have a drawing or something?”

“Nah.” Tyler admitted. “But maybe something symbolizing home. Columbus.” 

“Yeah totally!” Josh agreed. “Let’s go. Right now—there’s a local guy I like. The one thing I insist is that I won’t have Brutus Buckeye tattooed anywhere on me, alright?”

“Deal.” Tyler and Josh shook on it, and in a whirlwind of an hour, both found themselves in a tattoo parlor with a simple sketch traced on their skin at 2 in the morning. 

Josh’s artist friend was miraculously still awake and opened up the shop special for them. Nothing elaborate was designed—just a C and an X to mark home, and a promise that neither would chicken out. The buzz of the tattoo gun solidified a bond that would last longer than this tour alone. Every view of the mark behind Josh’s ear made Tyler’s heart beat hard, and the Internet lost its mind at the newest of Josh’s tattoos. 

The next two shows were possibly the best of Tyler’s life thus far. His family and friends were all there and his new best friend was marked as  _ his _ , plain for all to see. Everything was perfect and in sync, a homecoming not exactly like he’d hoped for all those years—Tyler was still waiting for his own music to be recognized, but it was pretty close. 

He thought nothing could stop the momentum, and after a quick, ‘I love you’ whispered in his ear onstage, Tyler began making real plans to do something about his feelings. 

* * *

Tyler should’ve known that everything wonderful could only be destined to be ruined, as if he didn’t deserve to have things work out the way he prayed for them. He knew that his crush would only get in the way of the friendship, and make this job, this gig, impossible to continue. To be pining after someone who could easily do better than a nobody like him—Tyler shouldn’t have spent the mental energy. He knew he should’ve ignored his heart and desires. 

Josh was right about a story coming out about his love life, but incorrect in  _ which _ story. 

Tyler knew it was stupid to feel so betrayed, to react like he’d been dumped, but why hadn’t Josh warned him—no, better to say to ‘simply let him know’ there was someone else. What was Josh playing at, acting like they were best friends and all—getting matching tattoos and hugging and even bro-cuddling when watching movies—and then never mention what he’s actually been getting up to?

Apparently, after the awards ceremony, Josh had more than a little fun at the afterparty, specifically with the model who had handed him the award. Not only were there photos of them making out at that event, but they had kept in touch. And Tyler found it all out when Josh had shown up at another celebrity event with her—one that he’d brushed off as something he was going to on behalf of the label. 

Josh had flown out with Evan to go to that event, and the rest of them had continued on the bus to the next city. The band and crew had been grabbing burgers at a rest stop when the lighting girl, Ami, pointed out on the restaurant’s TV that Josh was walking the red carpet with  _ her _ . Half the group started whooping and the other half checked their phones to see what was going on. 

Tyler sat in numb disbelief and horror as the story came out via Twitter and the excitable show hosts. He couldn’t hide the shock, and with embarrassment, wondered how many people surrounding him would guess what he was feeling. Tyler just wanted to hide, and he knew that leaving right away would be obvious, but he couldn’t care. He made some silly excuse and headed back to the bus with knowing eyes following him through the door. 

Josh didn’t owe him anything, he told himself bitterly. They had a working relationship, that Tyler must have over-interpreted. It was his own fault, he realized, to have put so much into think that his feelings could amount to anything. To think he even had a chance. 

Already, he had texts from Mark, but he couldn’t muster the energy to reply. Instead, he curled up in his bunk and thought about the best way to leave. Could he just quit? They had a few weeks off coming up; a break in the tour the very next week before the next leg. Tyler’s mind spun through artists he worked with and considered making calls, seeing who may just have him join in. 

Mark wasn’t the type to let Tyler stew; he knew too much, and the blaring of Tyler’s phone couldn’t be ignored. Tyler answered and was met with sympathy. Tyler felt lucky to have a friend who had his back despite how stupid he was. 

“I just wanna come home.” Tyler mumbled into his pillow; he felt so foolish about telling Mark his romantic plans to confess his feelings to Josh. “Am I blowing this out of proportion?” 

“Probably.” Mark sighed. 

“Yeah, but like… none of this is healthy. I’ve been acting like an idiot and, shit. God, this sucks. None of this has been healthy for me mentally. I shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t have even come on tour with  _ him—” _ Tyler’s voice dropped to a whisper. “—in the first place. I think I need to leave. I’m gonna ruin my reputation and career if I stay in this like an infatuated teenager.” 

“I-I dunno. I mean, I kinda agree with you, but can you really leave them in the middle of tour? That won’t look good.” Mark said reasonably. 

“I’ll let them know as soon as possible. I can find something else easily and use that as an excuse.” Tyler’s mind was still going a hundred miles a minute.

“Sleep on it. Maybe talk about it with Josh? Don’t do anything rashly, okay? Call me before you make any big decisions.” Mark made Tyler promise, but they both knew that he wouldn’t. 

Tyler stayed in his bunk, ignoring everyone else that came knocking, and texting all his industry contacts. He claimed to be feeling sick from the burger, and by dawn he already found another job that started the day after the last show with Josh before break. 

* * *

Looking back on that last week or so before he left the tour, Tyler knew he was being a complete and utter idiot. If his dumb feelings put him in a difficult position, his immature actions only made everything much, much worse. Tyler was throwing away the gig that had made him the most happy, and he berated himself for not being tough enough to get the hell over his crush and keep developing this friendship that could have been a musical collaboration.

But his penchant for screwing everything up once again came to ruin him, to haunt him and keep him up at night. While in the heat of the moment, Tyler knew he had to leave Josh’s touring band, he grew to regret every step leading up to that decision. The tattoo on his bicep and memories of tacos and rooftops only filled him with shame and pain. 

He didn’t hate the model, and he didn’t hate Josh. Tyler only despised himself. 

Josh was busy with interviews and Tyler barely saw him in those last days. There was a lot of attention on him and Tyler wasn’t the one to tell him he was leaving, like a coward. 

Tyler concocted a story for Evan, telling him in the management office of a venue that he couldn’t afford the weeks off, and a new job had come up that was paying more money and he sadly had to leave. Tyler practiced in front of the mirror to try and convince even himself, but Evan’s disbelief and immediate coldness told him that Evan knew he was lying. Tyler didn’t know what Evan knew or figured out, but he was absolutely pissed off at Tyler. 

“You’re fucking with me.” Evan’s voice was low and dangerous. Tyler was afraid and wishing he hadn’t started this conversation with no one else nearby to hear his calls for help. “You can’t leave in the middle of this.”

“I feel really bad, but it works out—you’ve got a whole month to find someone else to step in. I can give you the numbers of ten musicians that can do it better than me.”

“I’ve got a list of twenty other people, but Josh picked  _ you _ . He wanted  _ you _ to be in the band.  _ You’re  _ his friend and he’s counting on  _ you _ to be there.” Evan slapped his hand on the table with each ‘you’. Tyler jumped in his seat and tried not to crumble. This was harder than expected. “If money is an issue, we can make it work. Josh could—”

“No!” Tyler insisted. “I don’t want to take handouts. I just—I have to do this. Evan, seriously don’t fight me on this. I have to take this job.”

“Have you told him yet?” Evan’s glare actually hurt. He was usually very laid back—organized and able to get everyone to do what needed to be done, but was super chill besides that. At this moment, he looked ready to punch Tyler. 

Tyler shook his head. “Haven’t found a moment yet—Josh has been so busy, you know—”

“I’m not fucking telling him for you.” Evan shouted, and then closed his eyes to take some deep breaths. “I don’t know what your problem is, but just know—and I know you know—Josh had really been coping with a lot. And you’ve helped him more than I think  _ you _ even realize. So whatever crap you’re about to pull.” He waved his hand. “Think twice and think really hard about how this is gonna make him feel. And good luck sleeping at night.” 

Tyler was seconds from crying, his teeth digging into his cheek. 

“Get the hell out of here, I don’t want to see your fucking face right now.” Evan said and Tyler actually ran out of the room. 

It was his misfortune that three corridors down and almost to the safety of a bathroom, he ran right into Josh. 

“Hey… hey, Tyler what’s wrong?” Josh grabbed Tyler by the shoulders as he tried to escape. One look at Tyler’s face and the tears that had started leaking out caused Josh to go into protective mode. “Oh my God, are you—no, dude, come to my green room. It’s okay, I’m here.”

Tyler couldn’t stop Josh pulling him into the private room, nor could he control the sobs that escaped him. Josh pulled Tyler toward the couch and hugged him, shushing and soothing. 

“I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. What’s happening? What can I do?” Josh was so warm, his body wash now familiar and comforting. Tyler wanted to take it all back, couldn’t go through with it now that Josh was worried. 

“I’m so sorry.” Tyler kept repeating, and knew he had to tell Josh now. 

“Sorry for what? Tyler, what’s going on?” Josh asked. 

“I’ve gotta leave the tour. I—I have to take a different gig.” Tyler admitted. 

“What?!” Josh pulled away from him and was immediately pale. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, Josh.” Tyler felt pathetic, and Josh looked so hurt. 

“You-you can’t! Tyler, I’ll pay you anything. I have songs for us to work on. C’mon, I thought we were friends!”

Tyler put his face in his hands, unable to look at Josh anymore. “I’m sorry. Something came up, and I can’t do the next leg of the tour with you.”

“What came up?” Josh asked plaintively. “This is really out of nowhere.”

Tyler said nothing, trying to think of the best way to just dissolve and disappear into the floor. He didn’t say anything and just let Josh come to terms with what had to be. 

Josh exhaled shakily. “You know, I really opened myself up to you. I told you things only my closest friends and family know. And I hope you can keep some of those things you know, uh, secret.”

Tyler nodded. “Of course, I would never do that to you. I h-hope we can be friends again… after…”

“Y-yeah.” Josh said. “I feel like I’ve been hiding myself so much lately, so it was great having you here to show that there were still new people who could care about me for me… or at least that’s what I thought this was.”

“I do care so much about you. I’m so sorry.” Tyler felt his heart shattering, but he was already past the point of no return. 

There was a knock on the door and a voice—Evan’s—called through to remind Josh of some interview he had to run off to. 

“I’ll… see you later…” Josh’s voice was small and tired. He was gone in the snap of a door, and Tyler couldn’t feel anymore. 

He just knew he regretted doing this in Nashville of all places. 

Four days of near silence from everyone, and even the fans noticed a difference. Tyler kept out of everyone’s way and changed his flight to make sure no one would be stuck awkwardly with him back to LA.

He didn’t look for Josh after the last show, when he made his speedy departure. Tyler did not want to know if Josh would say goodbye, so he didn’t give him a chance to. Tyler left the word in a note on his pillow, and disappeared in an Uber to the airport. 

* * *

Tyler’s punishment came in the form of a shitty little pop star named Cameron. That was the next job he lined up and he quickly realized why his management team was offering so much money—they could barely get anyone to stick around for more than a few weeks.

Cameron was demanding and untalented and threw tantrums whenever he was asked to do any minor amount of work. All he seemed to be interested in was partying and cocaine; despite what the corporate machine tried to push as a squeaky clean image for thousands of screaming girls. Cameron didn’t hide his degrading, disgusting opinions, and how stupid he really was. 

Tyler found himself with a constant pounding headache and distaste for how assholes always managed to get some kind of fame regardless of their personalities. 

The music wasn’t hard to play, but the tension and disgust made it practically intolerable. He didn’t know how he could keep it up, especially after having so much fun with his last gig. 

Two weeks—two weeks into this new tour and Tyler was considering quitting altogether and just moving back to Ohio. He ruined his chances with his best job ever and nothing would ever be better. Even if he had a better artist to tour with than this turd sandwich, Tyler would be plagued by thoughts of what could’ve been. 

He knew he was really losing it—and Tyler decided that maybe he needed to take a sabbatical. Call up his therapist and start over. Josh had rocked his world so severely, Tyler needed to go full hermit and write an album—that no one would ever listen to—about him. 

Tyler had even tortured himself by searching Josh’s name on the usual sites. It burned his throat to see photos of  _ them _ together, and he asked himself  _ why _ ,  _ why _ hadn’t Josh mentioned her? Why had practically everyone on tour implied that Josh and Tyler had mutual feelings? Even some of the fans mourned the death of ‘Joshler’—they had pieced together that Tyler was now on tour with someone else. 

He was angry and confused, and sick of being the back-up, the supporting musician. Tyler wanted to have his own chance and path. And so, when Cameron had a fit about something stupid (Tyler didn’t even know what), and knocked over a rack of guitars, Tyler lost his shit. 

Finally, after a career of dealing with a number of rude singers, Tyler had enough. It was all going to Hell in a handbasket, so he unleashed. 

“Fuck you, you arrogant piece of shit!” Tyler screamed. “You are nothing, you are worthless, and you are going to be forgotten within a year. You are going to be so miserable, so fuck you all, I quit.”

Storming off had never felt so good; a release of everything pent up he’d been hiding for longer than Tyler had even realized. But the righteous anger was quickly replaced by a general sense of ‘oh no, what have I done’.

A squad of bodyguards forcibly escorted him from the venue, and Tyler and all his baggage were thrown in the back of a taxi to whisk him away. Most everyone understood where he was coming from, but as a practical unknown, they had to get him away just in case. Tyler didn’t even have time to call Mark before he was dumped at the airport. 

Sure, fantasizing about quitting and working on his own music seemed feasible when he was burnt out but still employed. However, after a mental accounting of all his bills, it felt like a death sentence. 

It would be hours before a flight went to LA, or even Columbus. Tyler stared at the departures board like it held the answers to his many worries. There was no place he  _ had to  _ go—there was no job waiting for him, and Tyler figured that he may not even have a career. Maybe he really did need to go home to Ohio for awhile and get his head back on the right way.

Tyler held his phone loosely in his hand, so when it suddenly started to vibrate from a text, it nearly slipped and fell to the floor. In shock, he fumbled and caught it, and stared in disbelief at the name on the notification. 

‘ _ 1 new message from Evan “Tour Masterrr” Terry’ _

Tyler couldn’t fathom any reason why Evan would be texting him—ever since he cursed Tyler out, he had ignored him with whole-hearted dislike. Evan was not someone to cross, and Tyler was sure that the message would be a string of insults, or very bad news. 

He felt like he just finished a sprint without having ever taken a step—Tyler’s whole body broke out into a sweat and his heart pounded. 

‘ _ Tyler. I know you’re out on tour, but we need your help.’ _

‘ _ With what?’ _ Tyler replied, already conflicted. He’d do anything for Josh, but it was better if he didn’t get involved. He was still hurt, deep down. 

_ ‘Josh has an acoustic performance tomorrow and he really needs you to play.’ _

A few seconds later, the another message dinged.  _ ‘Please.’ _

‘ _ You should find someone else _ .’ Tyler replied, his heart breaking to say no once again, especially when he was being asked directly. 

‘ _ There isn’t anyone else. There’s only you, Tyler.’ _

“Damnit.” Tyler whispered to himself. ‘ _ Josh doesn’t want to see me. I’m only going to make things worse.’ _

_ ‘Honestly, Josh is a mess without you. He really needs you to perform with him tomorrow—he wants you to play that ukulele song you guys were working on.’ _

“Damnit, damnit, damnit.” Tyler stood and began pacing in a circle around all his luggage, receiving concerned looks from nearby passengers. 

‘ _ Please, Tyler.’ _

Tyler gave in. 

_ ‘What time? Where? I’m actually at the airport in Phoenix now.’ _

_ ‘Chicago. We’ve got an overnight drive to get there, but I can arrange for someone to pick you up, hotel, and reimburse your flight and everything. Thank you thank you thank you.’ _

The effusive text was kind of uncharacteristic of Evan, but they seemed to be in a tight spot, so Tyler thought nothing more about it. He headed to the ticket counter and bought the last seat on a flight straight to O’Hare. He was certain that this would all be something he’d regret later, but he was already headed down the rabbit hole—night as well keep going. 

* * *

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Evan exclaimed as Tyler walked into the green room all the way in Chicago, and pandemonium broke out. There were cries of ‘I knew you’d come back!’ along with a general ‘what the hell is going on?’

Tyler should’ve expected something like this—it had all gone too smoothly; the flight, the car service, and a suite in a lovely hotel in the city. He fumbled with his guitar and ukulele cases and tried to explain himself. 

“You— I—I’m here for the performance? You said Josh needed an accompanist?” Tyler was beyond confused at Evan’s shock. “ _ You _ texted  _ me _ .”

“What the hell are you talking about? I lost my phone!” Evan shouted. 

Josh wasn’t in the room, but several crew members who were there looked torn between joy and disapproval at Tyler’s return. 

Tyler whipped out his own phone and showed the text message history; Evan was muttering unintelligibly and then the lightbulb clicked above his head. 

“Josh! Get your ass out here!” He yelled and Josh came sheepishly into the room from wherever he’d been lurking. He was blushing, avoiding eye contact, and most notably did not seem surprised that Tyler was there. Tyler felt that light fluttering in his stomach from when he first laid eyes on the singer. He was dressed like he always dressed, with ripped jeans and a cool t-shirt, but looked as wonderful as always. 

“Um… yep?” Josh said, with the air of a kid who knew he was about to be grounded. 

“When you said ‘don’t worry about finding me a guitarist, I’ve already got a guy lined up’, did you mean…  _ him _ ?” Evan pointed, and Josh nodded. 

He finally looked at Tyler and winked. “Hey there.” 

Evan sighed, the signature of any overstressed tour manager. “And did you steal my phone to text him, so it didn’t look like you were the one begging?”

“I wouldn’t say begging…” Josh denied but everyone rolled their eyes. 

Evan gave up. 

“That’s it! I’m out—for today at least—you two can figure it out, because I’m taking the day off of managing Josh’s life drama. Everyone—out. These two need to talk some shit out. You have…” Evan looked at his watch. “15 minutes till the show starts.”

Left alone, the two stared at each other. 

“Thank you for coming.” Josh said, the smallest of smiles on his face. “I really do need you here. I’m sorry for deceiving you—are you going to be in trouble with the other tour?”

“Nah, I got fired before you even texted me.” Tyler said casually.

“What? You rebel!” Josh exclaimed. 

Tyler shrugged as if it were no big deal. “You know me, always causing a ruckus.”

“Yeah, definitely.” The warmth between them was definitely back, almost as if Tyler hadn’t left.

“I—I’ve been kinda a mess, too.” Tyler confessed. “Were you, uh, serious about that?”

Josh looked away, but mumbled a soft ‘yeah’. An awkward silence full of things they couldn’t say to each other took the space between them. 

“Should we do a quick rehearsal?” Tyler suggested and Josh leapt onto the topic change. 

The set list was nearly exactly the same as what they’d run before for acoustic performances. It was a quick half hour set for fans, with the only addition being this new ukulele song. 

“I finished the lyrics.” Josh explained. “You remember how we recorded the ukulele alone? I just kinda wrote over that. So you’ve play that part exactly how you did .”

“Alright, uh, do I get to hear the song?” Tyler asked. 

“No, I want everyone to hear it complete for the first time together.” Josh replied, insistent. 

“Really? Do you think that’s gonna work?” Tyler was skeptical. 

“It will. Just play it now, and I’ll, like, hum or something.” Josh said. 

It was a weird run-through. Josh said it was perfect, and Tyler just had to take his word for it since he couldn’t discern anything besides the general melody from Josh's loud hums. 

Evan shouted through the door “5 minutes to showtime, unless you’ve already killed each other.”

“So you ready to do this?” Josh asked. 

“Always.”

“Uh, is it okay if I ask why you, um, left me?” Josh finally said what had been stuck between them. “I mean, everything was going great, but then one day you just… quit. What did I do wrong?”

“I… I’m really embarrassed by it all. I’m an idiot. I… I can’t really talk about it right now, can we discuss after?” Tyler chickened out, again. 

“Okay…” Josh looked disappointed. “And for what it’s worth… I’m not actually dating anyone right now. Her PR and my PR took what was a drunken encounter and decided to stir it up into something it wasn’t. Um, just wanted you to know that…”

Tyler hid how happy that news made him, though he was ready to dance for joy. Still didn’t change anything—they were still friends, only friends, if that was still so. He’d done enough to screw it all up anyway, and after the show, maybe Tyler would fess up to his real feelings; he hadn’t decided yet. Either way, things had and would change forever after this one performance. 

* * *

“So I have one last song for you.” Josh announced to the crowd of about a hundred diehard fans, who had won radio contests.

Everything had been going smoothly, Josh had seemed so comfortable, making jokes with Tyler and the crowd, his voice was steady. The nerves that Tyler had seen at the start of their touring together were barely visible. 

And Tyler was truly having a great time—for as simple as it all was, Tyler hadn’t felt like he really  _ belonged _ until this very moment. None of the other artists he worked with had ever made him feel like part of the main show, which was expected and acceptable. That’s not what he was there for—his job was to be the backup. But with Josh, Tyler felt noticed and important. When the audience was given time to ask questions, they even directed attention to him. He had never gone looking for this with any of his touring gigs, but to actually have it was one of the best feelings in the world. 

“So we’re gonna mix it up for the last song, if that’s okay with you guys?” Josh said and the audience replied with whoops of approval. “Tyler here is gonna play the ukulele, which he’s been dying to do for, like, ever.”

“It’s the  _ sickest _ instrument. Really tough and cool. You guys can mosh if you want.” Tyler interjected. 

“Well, they are the ‘ _ hardcore fans _ ’.” Josh chimed in. 

“I’m surprised they haven’t been crowd surfing and breaking stuff the whole time.” Tyler said seriously. 

“Wait, yeah maybe they’re not. Oh jeez, there’s been a big mistake.” The audience giggled. “Well Tyler, I think you’re gonna have to teach these softcore fans to sing along.”

“Uh, dude,  _ I  _ don’t even know the words.” More audience laughter. “No guys, I’m serious.” Tyler told them. “This song is so new that Josh hasn’t even let me know what I’m playing.”

“You’ll be fine.” Josh reassured. “Tell them about the ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’ part.”

“Oh yeah, I do know one part.” Tyler said. “And who knows, these may be the only lyrics. Sorry when I say, ‘one, two, three’, you all have to say ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’. Got it? Let’s practice.”

They tried it twice, and the audience was beyond excited—everyone had been waiting for new music, and to be the first to hear it was unbelievably exciting. 

“Ready?” Tyler asked, noticing Josh had closed his eyes when Tyler had been working with the crowd. 

“Let’s do this.” Josh grinned, and they began. 

Tyler always listened to the lyrics, as someone who still wrote his own music in journals when inspiration took him, he was fascinated by what others had to say. Of course, anything new from Josh, his favorite musician, would enthrall him. 

And from that first line, Tyler knew this would be his favorite song that Josh wrote. 

“ _ We don’t believe, what’s on TV _ …”

It wasn’t just the words he sang, about doubt, love and finding purpose through that—but how he said it. Because Josh broke the very first rule about performing. 

He didn’t look at the crowd at all. From the start to the finish, Josh’s eyes were locked on Tyler and it was clear that he was singing for no one but him. Josh clearly wanted Tyler to know that every single word was for him. 

Tyler didn’t know how he made it through the song—he felt ready to cry, laugh, and sing, himself. It couldn’t actually be happening, he felt dizzy with disbelief and  _ love _ for the purple haired man singing his heart’s true feelings to him. 

There was no one else in the room, as it felt for the two of them. The screams of the audience and shocked looks on the crew’s face were muted like they were behind thick glass. In the glow of unspoken acceptance, the rest of the world didn’t matter—both just wanted to run off stage and find a private place to finally share what they’d been hiding. 

It was the most intense three minutes of their lives, something they’d never forget, though they were both fuzzy on all the details. Thankfully a hundred people recorded the moment that their relationship culminated into what it was meant to be. 

It ended to tumultuous applause, and they joined together for a bow. Tyler whispered into Josh’s ear what he’d been dreaming of saying for a long, long time. 

“I’m so in love with you.”

And Josh said back. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Everyone there knew that something had just happened, and it was a shift from two independent souls supporting each other, to becoming one solid circle. And behind the black curtain marking backstage, they finally had their private moment to meet in a heated kiss, full of promises to never leave or let go. To always be there, even if they failed in their dreams—because the music would always be  _ theirs _ even if no one else listened. 

Regretfully, Tyler pulled back from the sanctuary that was Josh’s lips, though he knew he’d be returning soon. 

“Hey Josh.” Tyler asked. “Do you want to be in my band?”

“I’ve been auditioning this whole time. Yes, of course I want to.” Josh laughed, his body warm in Tyler’s arms all while surrounding him, too.

“I love you, drummer boy.”

They went back to Tyler’s hotel suite, which quickly became Josh’s as well. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign stayed up until they checked out two days later. They had no where else to be, but to be between the sheets getting to know each other in every way that wasn’t allowed before. 

Tyler made sure to kiss the warm surfaces of Josh’s skin, from the tattoo behind his ear, to each rib and point of his hips. He drew forth another sweet song of Josh’s moans and quiet pleas, their bodies colliding delicately and desperately. Solitary tears slid, sometimes indistinguishable from sweat, an out flowing of how much they needed and wanted each other. 

Neither had been like this with anyone in a long time, and certainly hadn’t felt loved as much as this. They could barely be apart from face-to-face for long. No matter what position or who was inside of whom, they had to pause for long kisses and slow movements just to reassure each other that this was real. 

It became so easy for Tyler to slide between Josh’s strong thighs, to work him open and make them one. Josh’s fingers dug into his back and met every one of his thrusts. His body was Tyler’s new home, and he brought him to new highs. 

And then when they had recovered enough, the air would shift and Josh would take over. He reassured and caressed and made Tyler feel like the most important being in the universe. He never felt so safe and taken care of before by anyone he’d ever been with, and Tyler knew he’d be happy to stay like that for the rest of his life. Finally, someone was able to reflect him like a mirror and show Tyler how precious he was. 

In between the fireworks and quiet moments, the quick naps and breaks for room service; they just talked about everything they wanted for their future, together. During that special getaway, something unique was born and shaped. A new expression— of their love, with music and words and concepts they were only brave enough to create, together. 

And that was the beginning. 

* * *

_ ~November, the very next year~ _

“Dude, are you seriously filming me right now? My vocal warm-ups are so embarrassing!” Tyler scolded Mark, who was following him around with his camera. 

“I have to capture  _ everything _ . This is a huge moment for you guys!” Mark insisted. “Your first big show together, Columbus, Newport—this is gonna be an  _ awesome  _ behind the scenes.” 

“Oh God, you’re making it worse. I’m, like, torn between ‘what if no one shows up’ or ‘what if everyone does and they all hate it’!”

“Josh!” Mark shouted. “Your boyfriend is doing it again!”

“Tyler, the show is sold out, the album has great reviews, and my mom is going so we’re guaranteed to at least will have one happy fan.” Josh called back, from where he was finishing applying red eye makeup in the bathroom mirror.

“Have I mentioned yet today that I love you?” Tyler replied. 

“This is time number thirty-two! But still awesome to hear it.” Josh said cheerily. 

“I can say the same thing, and I don’t get that kind of response.” Mark fake-pouted. “Tyler clearly plays favorites, and yet he forgets who used to kill all the bugs in the apartment for him, for  _ years _ .”

“First off, you would make the cats do it, and second of all, you’re not the one who sucks my—”

Mark let out a yell at a frequency no one knew he was capable of, and sprinted away, shouting. “I surrender, I surrender.”

“Dude, whoa.” Josh said, poking his head into the room. 

“What? It’s true. And you do a great job blowing my mind in all senses of the phrase.” Tyler winked at him. 

“Yeah but he’s not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

“And hopefully neither will we…” Tyler was on a roll, the pre-show jitters making his emotions fairly labile as well as supercharged. “God, you look hot dressed like that. I can’t wait to get you alone.” 

“I can’t believe I’m the one telling you this, but dude… Focus. Big show.”

“C’mere and kiss me.” Tyler gestured and Josh easily complied. 

“Careful with the black paint!” Josh carefully met his lips.

“Well, everyone knows we’re together. Some handprints wouldn’t shock them, right?” Tyler cackled. 

“Later… my mom is here, remember?” Josh replied.

“Dude… this is gonna be sick.” Tyler said for the hundredth time that week. 

“Five minutes. Let’s go, boys!” Evan called. 

Mark reappeared as they started the walk from the green rooms to the stage, filming every step to capture the moment when the new twenty one pilots made their debut.

It had been months of negotiating with the label to take a chance on them. With Josh as an already established artist, a rising star, it was tough for them to lose that name recognition and back a new project instead. But the fans’ interest and media attention at the twist of their musical and romantic relationship caused enough of a stir to propel their formation into this new, equal partnership. 

Tyler would be the lead singer, but they shared the stage, each talking a half for themselves. Josh did have time to sing his own songs, since many fans were still hoping to hear those, and once again Tyler supported with the backing music. 

They had poured their hearts and souls into planning this grand debut. First came the album, which was simultaneously nerve wracking and the most exciting creative time in Tyler’s life as together they developed their own signature sound. With the album perfect they devoted all their attention into planning every second of the show. Concepts and tricks and amazing tech—all they could afford was there. 

They wanted twenty one pilots to be like nothing else anyone had ever seen. Even if the lights all blew up and no one could hear a word or note they played, they were going to make it a success because they were a team—invincible and solid. Most importantly, Tyler and Josh were happier than they could ever imagine. 

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Guess who's back! Heck yeah. I've been working on this all semester, and now that's over with, I was able to power through to the end. Please let me know what you think--it's always tough to write without feedback the whole time. I've got more fics lined up to be worked on this summer, so you're going to hear more from me soon.
> 
> teeentyonepilots on tumblr, hmu.


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